


Accidental Saviour

by MaraudingManaged



Series: LF2020 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Falling from A Height, LF2020, Some depiction of injury, TeamEros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraudingManaged/pseuds/MaraudingManaged
Summary: When Hermione takes a serious fall, she doesn't expect anyone to be at the bottom to save her.It's a good jobsomeoneis.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott
Series: LF2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628197
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101
Collections: Love Fest 2020





	Accidental Saviour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aerlinniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerlinniel/gifts).



> I hope you love this little ficlet, my lovely! 
> 
> Written for FOTR's #LF2020, #TeamEros - unbeta'd, all mistakes absolutely my own!

It all started with a trip down the stairs. 

Regrettably, Hermione did in fact mean it literally. 

Her shoes had come undone. It was dark, and it was almost curfew. She was running, her bag was weighing her down and she forgot about that bloody-sodding-evil trick stair. Her shoe got stuck, she tried to run forward, proceeded to leave her shoe behind and in an effort to retain her balance, she went tumbling backward. Her hands grasped and slid as she tried to grab the bannister, but it was if they were greased and her actions only served to wrench her shoulders and elbows, and she screamed as they burned. 

She was vaguely aware of the air around her body, the feeling of space that was shortly to come to an end. She bounced once, twice, her ribs screaming at each impact, her ankle cracking, her head roaring in pain and the oncoming agony of the end of her descent. 

Hermione tried so, so hard to relax. She knew that it was supposed to make the landing easier - but from the top of the staircase? 

No matter what she did, it was going to hurt.

“ _ Molliare! _ ” She heard a voice cry just as she was about to collide with the hard marble flooring of the bottom of the staircase, and instead of the sickening crunch of her skull against the stone there was only airy, pillowy comfort. 

Her head was spinning, and hear ears rang with searingly-pitched tinnitus. The world swam before her eyes as she attempted to sit up; but a large, soft palm pressed gently against her forehead to push her back down. 

“Hey, Granger, stay still. You fell a ridiculously long way and you’re - oh, fuck  _ me _ , you’re bleeding quite badly. No, seriously, don’t make me stun you, for Salazar’s sake.” 

The voice rattled on, outside of her field of vision as she stared blearily up into the rafters of the castle - the ancient sandstone and marble mingling and mixing as she tried to blink away tears. Hermione could feel her breathing becoming shallow, and she tried to count her breaths, but she couldn’t seem to remember what came past ‘eight’. 

“I can’t…” she began, but she found that the words slipped away from her tongue as she tried to say them. 

“Hey, hey - I’m trying to stabilise you and then I’m going to get you to Madam Pomfrey. It will be okay, I promise.” 

And then a face filled her dancing vision, and her mouth parted in a soft ‘o’. 

His dark, slightly curling hair was disheveled, a streak of blood along the side of his nose where he’d pushed his glasses up to better frame his olive eyes. His emerald and silver tie hung loose about his neck; his usually pristine shirt unbuttoned; his angular, handsome face pale and taut with worry. And around him, the lamplight made him look like he was glowing from within, and Hermione felt the smallest quirk of her lips at the corner. 

“Are you an angel?” She murmured, the question seeming entirely reasonable to her addled brain. She tried to lift her hand up, and as she did so her vision sparkled black and white, growing ever dimmer.

He coughed out a laugh as he pushed her arm back down. “Me? You’re barking, Granger. Absolutely barmy. Hey, Granger? Granger, can you hear me? Oh, fuck, please don’t die. Please, please don’t die.” 

Hermione tried to open her mouth to speak, to assure the boy that all was well, but she found that she couldn’t. 

She just wanted to sleep away the pain and the dizziness, but she needed to tell him… 

She just wanted to… 

To tell him… 

She was… 

_ “Granger!” _

* * *

“Hey, Granger - come on, please, open your eyes for me.” 

Hermione tried to blink. Tried to force her eyelids open, but she couldn’t. 

“Young man, she won’t wake. She needs to rest - she took quite the knocking about, and quite frankly it’s better that she doesn’t remember any of the treatment.” 

“I know, but… she might hear me, mightn’t she?” The boy sounded sad, panicked, unsure, and Hermione wanted to tell him that she was perfectly fine. 

There was a pause before the other voice spoke. “She might, but it’s hard to say. Let her rest, hmm? Go to bed.” 

There were footsteps. Some shuffling. A weight next to her hip. 

“Hey, Granger - don’t tell anyone this, but you’re really quite pretty when you sleep. You look peaceful; wish I knew what that felt like. Get some extra sleep for me too, okay?” 

She nodded; or at least, she did in her head. She couldn’t seem to get her neck to move, but she wished she could as a strange warmth pressed against her forehead. 

Had he… had he  _ kissed  _ her? 

* * *

“Why were you even near her you slimy creep? Stalking her, were you? Reckoning you could get a bit of easy action?” 

She knew that voice, hissing and full of derisive malice. Ronald. He was shouting at someone else, someone who’s words she couldn’t make out at first as she slowly woke. 

“Oh, fuck  _ you _ , Weasley! She’s supposed to be your  _ friend _ \- do you think she wouldn’t be perfectly capable of throwing me off? That she’s just  _ easy _ ?” The other boy roared - her saviour. “Where were you when she fell? You were supposed to be doing rounds together!” 

“That - that’s not even -  _ why does what I was doing even matter _ ?”

Hermione wanted to tell Ron several different ways in which he could shut the sodding hell up considering she’d left him giving Lavender a very thorough examination of her oral cavity, but she found that she couldn’t. What she  _ could _ do, however, was open one eye very, very lazily. 

“Ronald -  _ shut. Up.”  _

“Hermione -” 

“ - Granger, thank  _ fuck _ .” 

“Out, all of you!  _ Out! _ ” Madam Pomfrey shrieked, shrill, and Hermione’s face scrunched. “This is a Hospital Wing, not a bawdy pub! Leave!” 

Hermione’s eyelids fluttered, lashes heavy on her cheek, but she could feel a warm, large hand squeeze hers. “I’ll be back, Granger. Promise.” 

“Hermione,” she croaked, and then coughed with a wince. “Call me Hermione.” 

Theodore Nott gave an impish grin that mingled with relief on his exhausted face. “Alright then… Hermione. Oh, I got your homework, it’s on the…  _ Ow!  _ Okay, okay, I’m going, Poppy.” 

Hermione chuckled tiredly as the matron in question whacked him solidly about the head with her wand, and the boy dashed from the Hospital Wing before he could take a second beating. 

“Good afternoon, my dear. Let’s see if we can get you to sit up, hmm?” 

* * *

“You don’t have to slink about in the shadows, you know,” Hermione said lightly as she flicked the page of her textbook, her wandtip glowing as she read. “I’m awake, clearly.” 

“Good, because I’m rubbish at it,” Nott chuckled, and slipped into the uncomfortable wooden chair beside her. 

“So, I gather I owe you my gratitude,” Hermione placed her book down, and met the boy’s eye as he dropped his chin and shrugged his shoulders. “But… Ronald, despite his tactless voicing of his concerns, did have somewhat of a point. Why were you following me?” 

“You were the last girl patrolling. Pansy had already gone back to Slytherin, and… I don’t know. It just doesn’t sit right with me for a witch to be wandering around in the dark on her own, I suppose.” 

“How very chivalrous of you,” Hermione said drily. “Long live the patriarchy, and down with feminism.” Nott glanced up at her with a sheepish grin. 

“When you put it like that, it does sound a bit condescending, doesn’t it?” 

“A little.” She raised her hand, pinching her thumb and forefinger together. “Just a little. But thank you, Nott. I… I gather I wasn’t in a very good way when you found me..” 

His face, already pale from his habitual residence in the Library, whitened even further. “It was… I’ve not been scared like that for a long time. My mum, you know? She fell. Like you. Only it wasn’t… well. I don’t think it was accidental.” 

Hermione’s heart dropped. “Oh, Nott, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 

He shrugged, dark curls falling forward as he leaned on his knees with his elbows. “It was a long time ago. But it brought back some memories, you know? And I couldn’t watch it happening to someone else.” 

Hermione’s heart felt curiously constricted as she watched him breathing deeply, his shoulders rising and falling in steady waves. He was, she could admit, very good-looking - but she’d never really thought any further than that. She’d always supposed every Slytherin would have been rather happy to see her take so serious a tumble - it would save them a lot of trouble, in the end, to have one more Mudblood dead. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Theo said suddenly, and Hermione started guiltily. “And you… you wouldn’t be entirely wrong. But there are some of us in Slytherin - we don’t want what the rest want. We want out.” He gazed at her earnestly, leaning even further forward. “There’s only so much we can do - we’re limited by our situation. But if there’s any information we can provide, anything you need to know…” he trailed off, and Hermione bit her lip for a moment. 

There was something she did want to know. Desperately, since she’d first heard the words leave his mouth. 

“Do you really think I’m pretty?” 

Theo blinked once, twice, and a slow smile formed on his face, his eyes dancing behind the dark rectangular frames he wore. 

“You heard. I thought you would, even though Poppy swore up, down and sideways you were out for the count.” 

“I did,” she blushed then, and covered her cheeks with her hands. “Oh, what a silly question. I’m clearly still not myself, I’m ever so sorry, it really was quite daft of me to ask, of course you…” 

“Do,” he interrupted, and she jumped when he took one of her hands from her face and wound their fingers together. “Of course I do. Lying to an unconscious girl really would be the lowest of the low, wouldn’t it?” 

“I… I never really thought… I mean…” she stuttered, and she heard another bark of sharp laughter from the boy beside her bed. 

“Hermione Granger, speechless. Whatever next?” 

“Oh, you can piss right off. Go on, go!” She cried, and Theodore Nott danced away from the slight stinging hexes she sent his way as he leapt from his chair. 

“Fine, fine, I’m going. But Hermione?” 

“Yes, Theodore?” She tasted his name as she spoke it aloud, and found she rather enjoyed the way it rolled around her mouth and off her tongue. He turned to look over his shoulder and offered her a wink.

“I’ll see you in the library.” 


End file.
